


Tying scarves across a red light

by LW_Gomes



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Depression, Fate, Fluff, Hopeful Ending, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, M/M, Mentioned Han Jisung | Han, Mentioned Hwang Hyunjin, Mentioned Kim Seungmin, Mentioned Lee Minho | Lee Know, Mentioned Yang Jeongin | I.N, Seo Changbin-centric
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-21
Updated: 2018-11-21
Packaged: 2019-08-27 07:05:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,752
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16697704
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LW_Gomes/pseuds/LW_Gomes
Summary: He breathes in and relaxes against the mattress, hand going up to intertwine his and Felix’s fingers where the other’s rest on his collarbones.- When we’re gone, you won’t have to worry about any of this anymore. – The other swears. – And I’ll keep you safe like I can’t here.Changbin closes his eyes and thinks of nightmares that follow him when he’s awake, of not ever knowing or hoping for safety anymore, of being scared of the world and of himself before meeting bright smiles that brought him back from hell.And he thinks: somehow, you already do.





	Tying scarves across a red light

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! Welcome to my first Stray Kids fic!  
> First off, thank you for reading this, and I truly hope you enjoy it! Please feel free to send me compliments or criticism, I'm always open to both as it makes me know whether I'm on the right track. I also apologize for any possible mistakes, english is not my first language and I also might have missed typos and such when reviewing this, so please point those out if at all possible.  
> Secondly, I hope I was able to convey the feeling and the characters as well as I likes so as not to cause any dissapointment. However, if there is any confusion regarding the storyline or character backstories and such, or even just confusing scenes, don't be ashamed to ask. I tend to be very metaphorical and lots of things are open to interpretation in terms of feelings, but I'll be glad to explain my analysis of anything.  
> That's all I think.  
> Enjoy the read and thank you very much again!  
> Love,  
> LW_Gomes.

Changbin wears a scarf.

He almost never leaves it, even when it’s so hot outside that he feels his scalp burn and his skin melting. He wears it because he likes how it looks, likes it better than what is behind it anyways, and his friends - are they really? - joke and wonder and mock it, but he never really had anyone so it doesn’t matter. He only has his father, his father that hates him more than anything. His father that locks him up in his room with the shadows and that throws his pills down the toilet because he deserves to suffer. That throws glasses full of whiskey that smash on the walls and cut underneath his eyes, and that screams at him because his mother is gone and he isn’t even worth looking like her.

He only has his father. His father, and a scarf. A scarf that warms him even when he feels so anxious and cold all the time, that he wrings around his fingers when his hands are trembling, that hides what he sees every time he looks in the mirror.

He is wearing it when he sees Felix the first time. The younger man is like a breath of fresh air, with his clumsy Korean and velvety voice that unknowingly makes Changbin feel comfortable. It’s golden yellow, like his hair, rich and happy and full of life. He feels like he could fall asleep to it, even when it’s hard for him to even blink at night. He doesn’t think anything is going to come out of it in the beginning. They bump into one another and he shows the blonde his classroom, turning his back and following his way. Then, when lunch comes around, he sits alone in the corner of an empty classroom with his eyes stuck in his phone and doesn’t care about the door opening and closing. They’d leave soon, they always do.

But he doesn’t.

He sits down in front of him, opens a bag of chips and settles it between them, with a silent invitation to share. He pulls his own phone out and clicks away, and Changbin is so surprised that he stares at him open mouthed for a long time. When the other notices, he smiles blindingly and shrugs, going back to playing his game. It’s simple and quiet, but it’s everything he could want. He feels warm, lips curling upwards on their own, but he reaches for his scarf and pulls it tighter. Felix is bright. Like an angel, or the sun, or the pretty pens he uses to scribble on his notebook when he needs something extra special so that his day is less terrifying. He can’t know, or he’ll leave him. Changbin can’t taint this beautiful person with his ugly being, so he can’t know. He ties it even tighter. If the other finds it weird he doesn’t say.

Changbin wears a scarf.

Changbin wears his father’s handprints around his neck.

* * *

There is nothing easier than falling in love with Felix.

It’s surprising, actually, because he hadn’t found anything truly easy in a long time – it’s been years since even waking up became a struggle. Maybe it had to do with finally having someone close again, but he doubts it. There is something truly special about the younger that made him quickly open up.

Truth is, Changbin hadn’t always been a loner. Long before the present, he can say he was even rather popular. He had very close friends, lots of people talked to him, and he was comfortable in his own skin. Not all the time, no, but most of it, and he pretended well enough during the rest. And, of course, he knows why things changed. He knows he was the one who pushed others away, that he is the reason “Oh, the cool junior Changbin?” became “Who’s that? The lonely kid?”, but that doesn’t mean that he doesn’t wish people tried just a bit harder. That, now that he’s open to it, someone reached a hand just far enough for him to touch it. In the end, he figures he just wasn’t worth the trouble. He blames no one for giving up. He blames himself.

Nevertheless, he’s also thankful to himself.

Letting Felix in had been easy, easier than it was with others, but that doesn’t mean he didn’t still have to go against his instincts. Most days, Felix talked with him and all he could listen to was the clock ticking like a bomb, and he found himself waiting for the moment the alarm would go off and the other would leave him. But he never did. He never did and, still, Changbin heard the blaring very clearly, shattering his heart time and time again. Every mistake he committed made the sirens go off and he froze. The taller never seemed to notice, either that or he ignored it, and kept on going with their friendship wrapped in too tight hugs and lame jokes. And at each second, the elder found himself unable to do anything but give his all to him, and hope he was kind enough to return the pieces back when he undoubtedly broke him in the future.

Ever since everything went down, ever since he became this mess that he is, he’s been alone. He still talks with one of his seniors occasionally, a nice guy with a sweet voice called Woojin, who dates one of his friends who left – and he thinks he keeps them updated but doesn’t dare bet on it, because why would they care? He also pairs with one guy during his study sessions, Seungmin, because he is always sitting alone at the library and lets him borrow the last spot on their usual table. That’s all, however, and he still feels lonely even through those small interactions because they were never close. Never enough.

Felix changed it, though. He started pulling him to greet Woojin in the corridors sometimes, making the elder look at him with wide eyes but a happy smile. He got another chair and started whispering away with Seungmin, and although he couldn’t concentrate he never felt more comfortable. He even introduced him to the leaders of the dance club he had joined, Minho and Hyunjin, and they talked whenever he walked Felix to his club meetings. All in all, his life was changing for the better.

He didn’t think it’d last, of course. How could it? It was all a very good dream but a dream nonetheless, and soon enough he’d be left to his devices. Instead of trying to avoid it in fear like usual, however, he reasoned he’d enjoy what he had while it lasted. It had all to do with the fact that he couldn’t imagine his days without the younger man. All to do with the fact that, despite not deserving it, he felt happier than ever.

Then, he made a mistake. That was the day he thought it would all be over.

It wasn’t.

It’s was dark day. Going out of the house took a great toll on him, but staying there would be worse because his father had started screaming and the voices in his head kept shouting and he could almost feel the blood running down his ears. So, he pushed himself into the streets. The world around him was colored in a sickening graying tune and seemed so muted it was almost hard to make out the outline of things, but everything still made a shadow twice as big as itself.

He walks and walks. His legs carry him through the pain deep rooted in his bones that comes with being unable to even think. He wants to throw up. He’s so tired. He’s tired of everything. Opening his eyes, taking a breath, moving his mouth to speak – he feels like he can’t bring himself to actually do any of it. He does, he needs to if he wants to avoid going home again, but bile rises up his throat and heaviness settles more and more on his muscles. It’s a bit like being trapped. He’s never been claustrophobic or anything, but metal is squeezing at him all around, and all he can do is take deep breaths of an air that smells like iron and tastes like bitter blood and makes him choke more than feel relieved. He can see the future, he thinks, and it’s him falling down on whatever street he is in. He can’t even bring himself to care.

Still, he walks the extra mile. He blinks at the door in front of him. His brain supplies quietly _Felix’s house_ and he doesn’t understand. He knows he must have come here in a subconscious wish to be comforted, but he shouldn’t because it has _nothing to do with the other and he can’t bother him but he’s so, so tired and he just wants a hug, can the other please hug him?_ It’s a mistake, he knows. Felix is kind and nice and he’d never turn him away, but he knows this is the moment he’ll lose him. That, if he enters this house now, when he leaves, it’ll be forever. He can’t control himself. He presses the doorbell.

Felix opens the door, eyes going immediately concerned. Changbin melts against his chest without barely looking at him, and is pulled inside the house and up the stairs in a mess of emotions. Back in the room, the soft mattress against his back makes his mind flutter high, and he stops thinking. His feelings are overwhelming, and they are _so very dark_ when the other’s concerned gaze focuses on his uncovered neck and stained arms, but he says nothing.

Felix pulls him against his chest. Changbin is too tired to even cry, so he doesn’t. The younger hums comfortingly against his hair, kisses it lightly and whispers: _it’s okay, I’m sorry you’ve been lonely, but I’m here now and you’re never gonna be alone anymore._

Changbin opens his eyes again and the world greets him inside the dark room. The sun has skin spotted like stars and eyes that glimmer comfortingly like a lover’s embrace. His heart races. Suddenly, the world is so bright it’s almost blinding.

* * *

Chan and Jisung had been important to him, once. No, _he_ had been important to them. They are still important to him, he notices, when he mentions them passingly and Felix stops him wonderingly. He never realized how much he missed them.

They lost one another when they went to Australia to try their luck in music and Changbin stayed behind. They tried to convince him, at the time, that they were a trio and should always be together and that it’d be fine, because Chan’s family was from there anyways so they wouldn’t be alone. He believed them, in the beginning, but then his mother died. His mother died and he was left alone with his father and the demons inside his head. He’d never been very optimistic, but that was the breaking point, he thinks, and although that should have made him want to leave even more, all it did was make him realize that he’d never live up to the others anyways. He didn’t deserve that chance, is what he told himself. I can’t leave my father now, is what he told the others.

They left. Changbin stopped replying the texts within the week. They visited in the holidays. He stayed locked in his room under his covers, pretending to be sick. They called him. He didn’t pick up. Ever so slowly, through situation by situation, he cut all relations and said it was for the best, even if he regrets it every time he sees their name on the screen.

He never got around to deleting their number, in the end. They didn’t delete his either, he knows.

Jisung still calls on his birthday, and sends small gifts when he can. He has a pile of letters under his bed that he never opened, because he doesn’t think he is worth the loving words that are surely within. Chan sends messages every other day about how they are, what they are doing, how it would all be better if he was there. When they come to Korea - he sees it on their timelines in the social media that he stopped following but still searches for - they stop coming around as they probably realized his intentions and are respecting it, but he always finds a new note in his mail box on the day before they leave. He wants to reach out to them, but the voices in his head stop him every time. _You caused this, now deal with it._ So he does. He also doesn’t want to risk their refusal. He doesn’t have them now, but at least like this he knows that they still care.

Occasionally, he’ll be in an extra bad mood and think that they don’t care enough. That if they went through all this trouble they could have just forced him to speak his mind and find out what the hell was wrong with him, but he knows it’s not fair and that it’s not how that works. That they have no way of knowing everything going on inside of him, because he always acted too well. So, he accepts their attempts with a caution filled heart and leaves them on the edge of his vision, close enough to see but far enough that he doesn’t risk getting them involved in his mess.

Still, he wonders to Felix one day, if maybe they’d take him back. With time, after _the incident_ , he opened up enough with the sunshine filled boy to tell him everything. It took him a while, and it wasn’t all at once because he kept stumbling in his confession. Eventually, though, it all came out. His father. The voices. His own self. His past. When it was all displayed in the open, it seemed a lot less scary but, also, all the more haunting. He didn’t know how to face the truth of what was happening to him because, honestly, he didn’t completely understand it, but Felix just hugged him strongly through it, and every panic attack that followed.

He cleaned his cuts, whispering as he kissed them that he hoped one day he wouldn’t see them again. He wiped his tears away with his thumbs, on the nights he couldn’t keep them in, and nosed at his cheeks making him smile. He rubbed his back when his body felt heavy and sang the ghosts away with a trembling deep voice. His hands were always shaking, but warm, and Changbin was sorry before realizing the other was just worried because he cared. It made him feel safe even from himself, as if nothing truly bad could happen to him in those moments. Having Felix beside him is like being on top of the world. Actually, like having the world at his fingertips, because he does.

Still, having Felix makes him miss having other people. Having friends and happy moments and days filled with nothing but carefree teasing. He goes back to wondering. Could he really do this? Reach out after so long? He wants to be selfish and brave like that, but he doesn’t feel strong enough. The younger snaps him out of it. Maybe he doesn’t know the whole story, but he pushes him on with such enthusiasm that it’s impossible to doubt him. He decides to give it a chance.

The next day, Chan sends him a message with an audio attachment and he reads: _Me and Jisungie are working on this sample, isn’t it nice? Sounds a bit like our old tunes, when we were only playing around in the roof of our school. The middle rap sounds good when we share it, but it’d be perfect for you. We miss you, Changbin. I hope you’re doing well._

He replies with the audio reattached but fixed this time, because it did sound better with himself in it, and the words: _I miss you both too._

* * *

It’s like he is finding hope again.

He’s really thankful for Felix, but every time he tells the younger that, he just tells him he should be proud of himself, so Changbin starts daring feel that way too. It’s weird. It’s guilt inducing. It’s liberating. It’s new, because he starts living again and he honestly forgot what that was like - having friends, actually answering his phone, not locking himself in the dark. He still does it all, of course. He knows he should try to fight it, because Felix doesn’t have those dark moments and he wants to spend as much time together as possible, but those feelings don’t just go away. It’s all engraved too deep in his soul already. But he has things that chase them away now, on most days.

Whenever he slips into the shadows, he picks up his phone and dials the number that is always on the front of his mind. He doesn’t always press the call button, sometimes just seeing the other’s name is enough, but when he does he is always answered with a rumbling low tone that feels like caresses against his skin.

Occasionally, he overthinks and hangs up right as the call connects, or even just before it does. On these days, he hears the light clanking of stones on his window, no more than a couple hours later. He pretends not to hear it until the younger calls him again, and he sneaks out, darkness floating around and heart in his hands as he tiptoes carefully so that his father doesn’t hear him. They go to school, or the park, or Felix’s house, or anywhere really. And, when Changbin returns, it’s always with a lighter mind, as if the other has sucked the sadness away. It makes him feel pleasantly empty, right until his father screams at him again and he needs to buy a new scarf – his old one always ends up ripped on those fights – because his reality can’t be let out.

The thought that he’ll never be able to escape it crashes down like a storm, careless to his feelings. He’s scared, so scared, all the time. He didn’t use to be, but now he has a reason to live and, more importantly, he understands that this nightmare is the reason he feels so messed up. He wants it no longer, he wants to go away more than anything. Wants to drink water without his throat aching, to wear clothes other than black because he won’t need to disguise his bruised body, to wrap the bright scarf that Felix buys him around his neck because he has a matching one and it’s cute, instead of because he has something to hide. He just wants to be free.

So, the proposal comes like a dream come true. It’s a flimsy text message really, but what matters is the flurry of emoticons that Jisung sends in the group chat and the excited audio Chan relays explaining what the picture means. And it feels like his life is finally back on track. Like, if he closes his eyes long enough, through the darkness that greets him, he can almost see what life would have been like had he taken this chance the last time it was given to him. But, oh well, things happen for a reason, and he wouldn’t have met Felix otherwise, so he is glad.

Telling him is hard, however, because they know what it means: it’s important that Changbin accepts it, for this is what his dream had always been, but it means a temporary goodbye for them. Still, his heart beats faster than ever against his rib cage, like it wants to get out and get a head start on the future. Suddenly, leaving isn’t a remote possibility anymore, but a close reality. He knows his father won’t allow it, but he probably won’t care either, so he counts all his savings and gets ready for what’s to come.

And panics.

Is he about to trade one hell for another? He knows he won’t be lost. He’ll have a job – bless his friends for thinking ahead and looking for openings with them – near the school he’ll need to enroll in, and also Jisung and Chan and everything he needs when it comes to support, except Felix, that is. But what if that’s not enough? What if he gets worse?

He calls the young man. Hangs up. Tries again but gives up before typing the whole number. Starts on a text message, but freezes when he sees the other is online and thinks _I really need to stop bothering him_ before clicking the screen of his phone off. He is half expecting the visit, but still feels nervous seeing the name flashing at him. Well, there’s no return, and maybe that’s the good thing about them, Felix never lets him wallow in his fears alone. He always just knows. So he goes.

Half an hour later he finds himself in the other’s room, looking into the dirt stains in the ceiling from when they had been play fighting and kicked the covers filled with crumbs into the fan accidentally. He breathes in and relaxes against the mattress, hand going up to intertwine his and Felix’s fingers where the other’s rest on his collarbones. His smile stretches as he twirls the soft yellow fabric – the gift - underneath them, and the younger man seems to understand because he grins happily with sad eyes that scream _I’m sorry I can’t do anything about this_ , and says:

\- When we’re gone, you won’t have to worry about any of this anymore. – He swears. – And I’ll keep you safe like I can’t here.

Changbin closes his eyes and thinks of nightmares that follow him when he’s awake, of not ever knowing or hoping for safety anymore, of being scared of the world and of himself before meeting bright smiles that brought him back from hell.

And he thinks, _somehow, you already do_.

* * *

He thinks happiness is pretty straight forward.

Maybe that’s why he doesn’t feel it as intensely, but he can’t say it for sure. Sadness, despair, confusion. He knows what that feels like. Tensed muscles, trembling limbs, the pain on the back of his throat that comes with sobbing for too long, the stinging in his nostrils when he breathes in after struggling for breath so much that it feels weird not to. And, drowning. In thoughts, in agony, in nervousness, and rethinking everything but also not thinking at all because he can’t bring himself to do anything but listen to the sentence his darkness writes for him. Yes. He is used to all of that, he understands it. It all comes mixed together and filled with splashes of blue and grey and purple in his life, covering his tracks so that it’s hard to move on and even harder to go back. Happiness, instead, feels a lot like not feeling anything at all. It’s a warmness bound in ice that grows in his chest, and it’s almost as if it comes to remind him that he can’t feel like that all the time. 

Or maybe the problem is just him.

He wouldn’t be surprised. In any case, honestly, it all comes down to him forgetting what happiness feels like. He knows he’s felt it before, knows he feels it occasionally, but it feels incomplete and rushed every time, like there are sirens that go off each time the feeling creeps up and that warn the waves of sadness so that they can crash the party. And he’s accepted that that’s what it’s going to be from then on, and doesn’t expect anything different.

But then, one day, there comes this feeling. This indescribable thing that keeps encasing his mind and making him hazy. Like his tongue is covered in cotton candy, and his eyes are filled with some glittery water through which he sees the outside, and his cheeks are red and hurting from smiling even though he is not - or is he? He doesn’t know if that’s happiness, or fondness, or love, or maybe if one of those generated the others until they are all scrambled and jumbled so tightly that he can’t differentiate each anymore. But he knows that’s what he feels when Felix is near him.

And it’s brilliant but also terrifying. He doesn’t understand why his heart feels warm and he feels so comfortable and safe near the other. The bad feeling never stops, but Felix knows just how to pull him out of the darkness. It’s like he is always shining on the edge of his mind, like his own personal nightlight that keeps the worst of the demons away or that reassures him even when he’s surrounded by shadows. And he…

\- I love you. - Changbin whispers on the phone, interrupting, because the realization is sudden and the feeling is so overwhelming that he forgets himself for a second.

Then, it all comes crashing down uncontrollably. _You don’t deserve him. Why would you ruin what you have? He’s perfect, he’d never want you._ Suddenly, he’s slipping deeper every second the other takes to answer and he knows that it’s not the Felix’s fault, that he must just be surprised, but his mind is a haunting place that he can’t control.

He’d been doing so well, he tells himself, fingers grabbing at his hair as the room closes in on him and his breathing fails. Maybe this is why the fall is harder.

\- W-What? - The younger speaks, but Changbin isn’t listening anymore.

He’s aware of the words as the other keeps on, but it is so gloom and blurry that he can’t hear anything. He tries, he really does, but all that gets through is his own voice pityingly saying “he’s going to hate you.”

He turns off his phone, and silence greets him as the screen goes black.

Dark.

Dark is good.

Dark is safe.

* * *

He doesn’t know if he regrets it.

He misses the other, every day. On some, it’s this deep sort of overwhelming longing that keeps him tied up to bed as his ghosts whisper threateningly. Then, on others, the sky is brighter. He goes to work and writes a hundred verses as easily as he could do one in his bad days. He looks at the sun and sees Felix’s smile and instead of burning it’s comforting. And he feels free. More than he probably ever has. He isn’t completely cheerful, but he’s nowhere near sad either. The bad days are diminishing more and more and it’s funny, he thinks, because he is finally getting better now that he’s away from the one that made him happiest, but maybe it has to do with resolve.

He wanted to become better. To be worth the one person he kept all his smiles for, yes, but also not to depend on him, because it wouldn’t be fair and because, above that, he knows he should love himself. Realistically, he's aware that he didn’t have to up and leave. They could have talked about it, found a way, because Felix has always thought he was enough and he knows it. It’s hard, however, to believe in something you don’t know yourself.

After it all happened, he is clear headed enough to realize that maybe he wasn’t as in control in the past as he liked to think. Given another chance, he might do it all differently, but back then his mind was too clouded for him to think straight. And he’s okay now, so maybe leaving was for the best. Even if he misses him. Even if he wonders how life would be like if those good moments they had could be his _whole_ life, instead of only the small windows of time when he wasn’t hating himself.

Chan and Jisung help him a lot, though. They mention Felix in passing once in a while – Chan and Woojin are still going strong – but Changbin still pretends he doesn’t ache to go back even if he knows no one believes him. Even so, they keep their promise of never saying where he is, and he is thankful. Also, rather angry; perhaps if they took the decision for him this would be easier. He’s happy like this, yes, but maybe...

The thing is, sometimes Changbin imagines meeting him again. He never ran away, he thinks, not really. Not when he is hiding in the same place the other calls home. Not when all he did was put an early head start in their dreams. Still, he knows it’s not true. That it’s his fault. That Felix will never be his again and that it’s all on him. He’s afraid. That’s the truth. He’s afraid the other went on with his life, that it all didn’t matter. He’s afraid he’ll never kiss those lips again, or hold those hands, or listen to that voice. He’s afraid of meeting rejection, but even more afraid of looking into those eyes and meeting regret. He doesn’t think he could bear it.

So he avoids it.

And, then, it happens.

It’s like being thrown back in time. He’s in the corridor of his school again, vision tunneling when he looks up and their eyes meet as if in a cliché. He blinks. The crosswalk stretches in front of him like a carpet leading to heaven, but he can’t bring himself to step on it and dirty it with his blame dripping shoes. The sun burns his neck and he feels hot, so he reaches for his scarf before realizing he hasn’t needed those in a long time. Still, he can’t breathe right. He’s on the verge of crying and laughing all together, hands trembling and sweating against his bare arms, and the voices raise themselves as they try to speak again but he looks down and sends them away. This time, they go.

He closes his eyes, breathes in deeply and tries to reel in the tears threatening to spill. Like this, with the cars and busses rushing past and blocking his vision, he can almost pretend he hasn’t seen the other, were it not for the heaviness in his heart. Even so, he closes his hands into fists that scratch at his palm but hurt less than his soul is hurting. The world is silent around him as people rush by, and he wants to go to the other, but he doesn’t dare.

He turns his back and leaves. His fate is to be alone.

He signed that fate when he left Felix all those years ago.

* * *

Felix had never really cared much for destiny. The notion that things were meant to be, that nothing could change the course of the world, was not something he believed in.

He started believing in it when he met Changbin.

How could he not? The older was inspiration and exhilaration in one being that shone with brightness even as he was cloaked in pain. He didn’t understand his loneliness at first, because surely someone as amazing and talented and kind as him would be surrounded by others, trying to bask in his glory. Then, they got closer. They got closer and he finally saw the demons that followed the other at every step like malicious shadows. And he loved him even more.

Changbin was a survivor. He was… Being in the pit darkness and losing himself to it, but having the instinct to tie himself in ropes of hope. He was suffocating in love and self-hate and being brave enough to wrap them around his neck. He was smiling through the pain of the blood slipping down his arms as Felix held his trembling fingers in his own and whispered: _tell me_.

He was sincerity.

Opening his mouth and letting his whole being spill through the blocks around his throat, like throwing up word after word and phrase after phrase until he lied unguarded in front of the one person he let in deep enough to destroy him. But Felix wouldn’t. He never could, not when he loved him so much.

Not when just looking at him made him have a reason to wake up, to try harder. Not when the feeling of protectiveness that welled up in his chest caused him to aspire being better, because the elder deserved the world and he’d be damned if he didn’t give it to him. And he believed that this was it. The reason they met. So that they could help one another and hold each other and carry on walking through life as the best versions of themselves they could be. They had a long way to go still, he knew, but they were getting there.

And then they weren’t.

And he lost belief once again, when Changbin left.

He didn’t understand it. It was disorienting.

Hearing his voice, his beautiful kind voice, saying all the words he ever wanted and then… Nothing. He was thrown out of his lane, confused but so hopeful when he asked what he meant but the only answer he got were the sad beeps of a disconnected line. And he knew what happened instantly but he froze. Did he hear correctly? Could he really hope that such a wonderful brave amazing being could ever fall for him? In the end, he rushed to the other’s home the fastest he could. They didn’t live so far from one another, but it was still a good thirty minutes on public transport. He ran like a madman, standing during the whole trip and jumping out of the bus as soon as it stopped in the right spot.

He was still too late. He is impressed, honestly, that Changbin went away so quickly especially in the state he was most likely in. He can’t say for sure, but if he knows anything is that his heavy breaths on the phone mean the beginning of a panic attack, and that he is gonna fall soon. He never hated himself more for not being faster than then. But the older doesn’t answer his phone, his window is open and when he finally convinces his father to open the door, they are both startled by the empty room. Empty of Changbin, yes, but also memories and a couple clothes and the suitcase he always left stored over his wardrobe.

And Felix doesn’t know what to do. The man screams at him and he screams back and seconds later the street greets him empty and cold like his heart feels. His hands are shaking and he feels the tears slipping down his eyes because he doesn’t understand. They should be okay, should be together now. It felt like they’ve been together and in love for so long, so why does saying it change so much? He wants to hate the other for running away but he can’t, because he knows he is in much more pain than he could ever feel. So, he tries to clear his mind and think of a way to find the other, but all he can think of is Australia and he knows that if he truly went there, than there’s no way he’ll find him on the airport.

Hours and hours - maybe days - later, he is home, trying to calculate how long it’ll be until he can go to where the smaller man probably is. His phone dings and his heart lurches, but it’s just a message from Woojin. He clicks on it anyways, almost uncaringly, because his limbs have been moving without his wishes since the moment he realized what happened. It’s small, but his breath catches all the same.

_Changbin left? What happened? Are you okay?_

And he talks. He asks for Chan’s number, because even if it’s not mentioned it’s obvious that that’s how Woojin found out, and calls him as well. He explains everything and reaches out in every way he can think of, but Changbin shuts him out. He knows that the other needs time. That, by now, he probably understands himself a little better and that since he is finally free there’s no way he’ll be back, but it hurts still. It all seems unfounded. He almost wants to leave everything behind and go back to his homeland, he knows he could, but maybe he needs some time of his own as well. Or not. He’s honestly rather lost and doesn’t know much anymore. But, he thinks, Changbin will realize they love one another and reach out, probably. If he needs time, he’ll give it to him, however much it hurts for them to be apart.

Woojin keeps giving him some loose updates on the other man as the days go by. He meets a younger boy, Jeongin, and tutors him in English, and it’s nice because he makes a new friend, even if it reminds him of the days when he and Changbin would have mock English conversations, laughing into the morning. He gets closer to Seungmin and immerses himself in his dance lessons, until he has a job in a small studio downtown. And time passes. He still loves Changbin, still misses him and still wonders if he didn’t make the biggest mistake of his life in waiting for the other to reach out instead of doing it himself, but that’s how it went and he’s happy. Maybe not completely happy, but happy all the same.

He still doesn’t believe in fate, not like other people do, but he trusts that Changbin entered his life in the past for a reason, and that maybe he was the one to mess it up and make them get separated. He doesn’t want to believe that fate could be so cruel. When it comes to his mind, he reaches on the back of his closet for a box filled with memories and wraps the man’s scent around his neck – even if it’s realistically gone for a long time. And remembers. It keeps him going.

And then, one day, he is older. He is older but not less hurt, not less beaten by the despair of life. He is back in Australia visiting his family, and he trembles with excitement just thinking of how close he is to the love of his past, but doesn’t dare hope too much. Until he sees him, and all that he feels is hope blooming.

It’s strange. Like meeting the other all over again. His lips feel dry and he holds his breath without noticing, sight running through the mirage he is certainly seeing because he can’t believe this is real. Their eyes meet. He knows the other sees him as well, so when he turns away from him, he feels his heart breaking. Did he just not want him after all? Was this really how they’d end? He considers turning back too. Maybe they really weren’t meant to be, maybe they lost their chance.

But, he realizes, _this_ is the chance. This is the second calling. Because perhaps they were always meant to break apart, even if only to know how they could barely live without one another, but they were clearly also always meant to meet again. So, he waits. The light turns red and the cars still. He bumps on a couple when he runs across the street, his bag slipping down his shoulder and startling a teenager that screams at him for spilling her drink, but he doesn’t stop.

His hand closes around a wrist and the other looks back at him, shocked, as if he can’t believe that this is happening. He's just as beautiful as all those years before, even with the bags underneath his eyes and his tiredness sunken cheeks, and Felix's heart jumps in his chest as if trying to reach out. The man seems scared and sad and exhausted, the galaxy of his eyes turned dim by the black hole of pain in his expression, but Felix smiles, freckles more pronounced by the raise of his cheeks, until the stars are looking back at him once more.

\- You never heard my answer, but I love you too. - He says, as Changbin finally lets the tears fall. – I _love_ you, and I’m not letting you leave me again.

He rewrites their fate with the blood their past left in his hands.

**Author's Note:**

> TITLE EXPLANATION: Although the title can be read in any way you wish, I developed it after some considerations. It can be after the literal meaning of the meeting at the crosslight, but the symbolism of it being red - besides the simple dramaticism of them stopping to just look at one another - represents the stop in their lives, where they can go ahead and meet or turn back. As for the scarf, it's self explanatory during the story in its literallity, but the connection with the red in the title can make an allusion to the red string of fate, and the fact that after so much time and happenings they still ended up meeting, still ended up tied together.


End file.
